Chapter 13 Valentina
VALENTINA
My cheeks burn with humiliation.
I'd thrown myself at him.
Again.
And he'd rejected me.
Again.
He could have rid me of the remnants of Maksim’s touch.
Instead, I’m left with the memory of the way he’d pushed me against the wall, his breath hot on my face, eyes gleaming with possession.
His vile words still echo in my ears. And that will be my life.
Forever.
"Valentina." Cristian's voice breaks through the endless spiral of doom. "I'm trying to protect you."
I laugh derisively. "From what? Living my life before I'm sentenced to death by matrimony?"
"From Maksim finding out and—"
"He's going to kill me anyway," I snap. "Maybe not the first night or even the first year, but eventually. When I've given him whatever he wants, he'll tire of me or get angry with me."
The truth burns in my chest. I've known it since the arrangement was made, but speaking it aloud makes it real.
What was I thinking to agree to this?
"All I want," I continue, staring out the window, "is to know what it feels like to be touched with real passion before I’m sent to live in misery." God, I’m so pathetic.
I keep my face turned away, unable to bear whatever expression might be crossing Cristian's face. In this moment, I feel more naked than when I stripped naked in front of him at the pool.
Several moments later, he says, “There’s no guarantee you’ll get what you seek from me. Sex isn’t always great, especially the first time.”
I shake my head and do an eyeroll. “Right. Let’s just drop it.”
"I'm going to fix—"
"There's nothing to fix here, Cristian," I say with a frustrated growl. "My life is what it is. Always at the mercy of men who don’t care—”
“I care.”
“But you’re powerless to help." This time, I do look at him. His jaw is tight. His fingers flex and then wrap around the steering wheel, and I realize the position I’m putting him in because he is powerless.
He can’t help me without sealing his own death.
"I'm being selfish. Here I am, focused only on my own misery, not recognizing how much danger I keep putting you in."
The car slows at a red light. "That's not true. Protecting you is my job."
"Is pulling a gun on my future husband part of that job description? If Alessandro knew what happened back there—”
“That’s why he assigned me to protect you."
“I’m sure threatening to kill Maksim wasn’t quite what he meant. And Maksim, I’m sure you’re now on his radar for some sort of retribution.”
The light turns green, and Cristian accelerates. "I'm not afraid of dying."
"Well, I'm afraid of your dying. Especially because of me."
“I made my choice."
"That's the problem. You didn't." I twist in my seat to face him fully. "You were assigned to me. You never asked to be caught between me and Maksim. Between me and my brothers. Between your duty and—" I stop myself.
Between your duty and whatever this is between us.
Christian rolls his shoulders. "I've been a soldier my entire life. I know the risks."
"But this is different." I place my hand on his forearm. “At least, I think so. It’s more than duty, right?” All of a sudden, I’m feeling vulnerable again as I ask him if he feels more for me than just a job.
He sucks in a breath. “It doesn’t change the situation.”
Okay, so not what I wanted to hear.
I pull my hand away and look out the window.
It’s time for me to grow up.
I need to stop looking at him with stars in my eyes, thinking I’m seeing more between us than really exists.
“And I’m not powerless. There has to be a way out of this marriage.”
My heart stutters, but I guard it from believing his words mean that he cares for me. "What?"
"I said there has to be a way to stop the wedding."
Hope blooms in my chest. "How?" I ask, desperate to believe him.
"I don't have all the answers yet," Cristian admits. “But there has to be something.”
For the first time since this nightmare began, I feel something other than despair, even as I know the odds are stacked against us.
That the end result could very likely be that I’m married to Maksim and Cristian is dead.
His eyes meet mine, dark and intense, and I see in them everything I need to know.
He does care.
There are lines he won’t cross, but he will protect me with his life.
I barely speak to Alessandro when we arrive home, muttering something about a headache before retreating upstairs.
I need space to think, to breathe, to process the possibility that I could get out of this marriage.
But how?
When I reach my room, I kick off my heels and tumble onto my bed as possibilities float through my mind, all of them involving me and Cristian being together.
Just hours ago, I was walking through a garden of roses with Cristian, pretending we were a couple planning our wedding.
The florist cooing over our "obvious chemistry" while we played along with the charade.
His hand in mine felt so natural, so right.
For those brief moments, I'd allowed myself to imagine a future where I walked down the aisle toward Cristian instead of Maksim.
Then reality crashed down like a wave.
Maksim's hands on me.
His mouth too close to mine.
The things he'd whispered about our wedding night, each word more revolting than the last. I shudder, rubbing my arms as if I can scrub away the memory of his touch.
And then Cristian was there, his gun to Maksim’s head.
The steel in his voice as he ordered Maksim away from me. He was willing to risk everything to protect me.
He is willing to risk everything to protect me.
He promised to find another way, to save me from this fate.
I close my eyes, trying to believe him.
Trying to have faith that there's an escape route from this life.
As hopeful as I want to feel, deep down, I know that no one escapes the world we live in without paying a heavy price, usually with blood.
Still, I believe Cristian is sincere, determined to help me.
He just needs a plan.
And for that, he needs time.
Perhaps I can help arrange that.
I rub my temples, willing my brain to come up with ideas on how to help Cristian.
I sit up as an idea comes.
I could forge Alessandro’s signature, something I’ve done before, on a note to Maksim.
I could postpone the wedding.
I could send a message saying there are security concerns and the wedding needs to be moved back.
Nothing that suggests backing out of our arrangement, just a reasonable postponement that would give Cristian and me more time.
It’s an insane idea, and yet, I’m already pulling out a pen to draft a letter.
I can type it up later, print and sign it when no one is around, and arrange for its delivery to Maksim.
God, I must be desperate if I’m willing to risk being caught.
If Alessandro discovers what I've done, his fury would be legendary. If Maksim realizes it's a forgery… I shudder at the thought.
And in the end, if Cristian succeeds and I don’t marry Maksim, there will likely be war between the families.
But what choice do I have?
Every day that passes is another day closer to becoming Maksim's property.
Another day closer to a life where Cristian will be forever out of reach.
I take a deep breath and begin to write a draft.
Just a little more time.
That's all we need.
When I get something that I feel resembles Alessandro’s voice and style, I feel relief and yet, also a twinge of guilt.
My brothers have always trusted me, included me in family business despite my age and gender.
This betrayal, even if meant to save my own life, feels wrong.
But marrying Maksim is wrong too.
I begin to think the only answer for me and Cristian doesn’t involve a new deal in which I’m no longer part of the arrangement.
Instead, it requires leaving all this behind. Leaving my home, my brothers, my friends, the life I’ve known.
I close my eyes and let myself imagine Cristian coming to my window tonight, a duffel bag of cash and fake passports in hand.
He'd help me climb down, his strong arms ensuring I don't fall.
We'd slip away in some nondescript car, driving through the night until everything I knew was in the rearview mirror.
Maybe we'd go south, find a small coastal town where no one knows the Dante name.
A tiny house with blue shutters, the sound of waves lulling us to sleep each night.
I'd wear sundresses and feel sand between my toes.
And Cristian wouldn't be my bodyguard anymore.
He'd just be mine.
I imagine waking up beside him every morning, his muscular arm draped across my waist, his breath warm against my neck. The way he'd touch me, like I'm something precious.
We'd make love whenever we wanted.
No politics, no alliances, no family legacies hanging in the balance.
Just us, discovering each other's bodies in our seaside bedroom.
A smile spreads across my face at the fantasy.
I know it’s silly.
I’m not even sure Cristian cares for me enough to make a life with me.
And if he did, well, it’s a pipe dream.
But I hold on to it because it’s the only good thing I have in my life right now.